


Hellbound

by errizabesu



Series: Hopeless Place, Unfortunate Timing [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Espionage, Field Agent - Oikawa, Forensic Pathologist - Iwaizumi, M/M, Mild Angst, Mutual Pining, Non-Linear Narrative, Romance, Thriller, and Hajime saving Tooru's life while he's at it, basically Hajime and Tooru trying to figure out their relationship, but just to be safe, not too gory in my opinion, rated M for violence and implied smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-12 02:00:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13537305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/errizabesu/pseuds/errizabesu
Summary: It baffles Iwaizumi, really. Knowing the bat-shit crazy thing Oikawa does for a living, cowardice is never an appropriate word to describe him. But the way he tugs Iwaizumi’s heartstrings, constantly showing up despite knowing how Iwaizumi felt, pushing him aside once he got back to his senses—Oikawa does fit the description. Only a coward would take someone’s heart with no intention of loving them back. Funny how guns, explosions and torture cease to scare him—but a loving heart does.In which Oikawa is a field agent specializing in national security and Iwaizumi is the prime minister’s son. They were just playing around, until it wasn’t a game anymore.Sequel to Manhattan Project Version 2.0 but it can also be read separately.





	1. The Dead Should Stay Dead

**Author's Note:**

> Kōanchōsa: engl. Public Security Intelligence Agency is the national intelligence agency of Japan. It is administered by the Ministry of Justice in the government of Japan, and is tasked with internal security and espionage against threats to Japanese national security based on the Subversive Activities Prevention Act
> 
> Kantei: a term used to describe the office of the Prime Minister of Japan and for the Prime Minister’s advisers and administration in general.
> 
>  

_Breathe in._

In the midst of crisis Oikawa needed to remind himself to breathe. However, instead of a proper inhale Oikawa hissed air through his teeth.

_Breathe out._

“Argh—”

A painful groan escaped his lips. Out of reflects Oikawa clenched the left side of his upper abdomen. Through the palm of his hand Oikawa can feel the mixture of dirt and half-dried blood around his wound. His communication device crackled incoherent voices; some Oikawa recognize as gunshots and others as an attempt to call out his name.

“Oi— _crack_ —ka— _crack_ —san!” Oikawa reached his com but before he is given the chance to respond, it continues. “Checkpoint— _crack_ —all clear— _crack_ —where are— _crack_ —you?!”

“Shut up—Kageyama,” Oikawa groaned. His head is pounding, his side bleeding and the last he needs is his on-site partner’s frantic screams. But the all-clear confirmation was essential, at least Oikawa can now set up a concrete plan for himself.

_Breathe in._

“Fuck,” Oikawa cursed. He can feel more blood oozing from his side. Oikawa struggled to open his leather jacket. The front of his shirt is already soaked in sweat, dirt and blood. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad if Oikawa had a stab-proof Kevlar instead of a bulletproof one. But then again, he was undercover and a stab-proof body armour would be too thick to wear under plain clothes.

Oikawa’s heart is beating fast and it is not a good sign. It is the first stage of shock: in response to blood loss the human body will shut blood vessels, which will lower blood pressure. Then the heart rate goes up to compensate. Left unattended his condition will only go further down the drain.

_Breathe out._

Oikawa crashed through the door, splattering blood on the floor as he falls. Oikawa’s free hand pushed his wounded body up but his legs failed him. Not willing to give in, Oikawa crawled into the room. _You’re okay,_ Oikawa assures himself, _you’ve had worse_. The room felt cold and Oikawa can’t tell whether it is the temperature setting or his body showing symptoms of massive blood loss.

“Oikawa to mission control,” Oikawa tries to say as clear as possible, “I’m down—I’m—“

_Breathe in._

“I can’t make it to rendezvous,” Oikawa hissed in between painful groans, “R-request—backup.”

Oikawa attempts to send his location through the device. It’s not responding. Oikawa tries again but the com drops as Oikawa loses control of his trebling hands.

“Shit—“

_Breathe out._

With immense effort Oikawa sat himself on a chair. He leaned his heavy head on the table in front of him with one hand still clenching his open wound. His other hand rummages the drawers underneath. He grabbed a roll of clean bandages and bites it to muffle his painful groans. His hands took another set of gauze and without wasting time, he plunged his finger into the open wound.

Oikawa screamed at the pain. The bandage roll helped muffle his voice but it isn’t doing enough. Oikawa’s voice echoed through the empty room, he can only hope that the walls are soundproof. The gauze helped slowing the blood flow—but he’s still bleeding. Oikawa is supposed to clean the wound before stuffing it, the dirt will lead to infection and cause more problems, but he has neither the time nor energy so he opts to stuff it. If his hands weren’t so shaky Oikawa would do emergency stitches.

 _Quickly, add more gauze and stop the bleeding_ , Oikawa’s brain is telling him. But it is as if every nerve cell in his body is reacting to the pain. He cannot get himself to carry on, at least not now. Oikawa felt betrayed by his own body. He tried to regulate his breathing instead. After the few seconds that felt like a lifetime, Oikawa reached for another gauze. This time his body complied. He bit the roll of bandages in his mouth tighter as he pushed the gauze into the hole in his upper abdomen. The pain is indescribable.

_Breathe in._

If blood vessels are a big tank and the heart is a pump, as long as that pump is going and there’s a hole in the tank, water will be coming out. Stop the leak. Stop the bleeding, get going.

Oikawa knows emergency procedure by heart. He forced another roll into his wound. In between his painful groans, Oikawa notice he isn’t breathing properly. He’s also losing consciousness abnormally fast.

“Stop—the bleeding,” Oikawa chants to himself as the bandage in his mouth fell out of place, “Get going.”

_Breathe out._

Oikawa’s hands are trembling hard, making it difficult work with.

_Breathe in._

“Stop the bleeding—get going.”

_Breathe out._

“F-fuck—“

Oikawa’s hands failed him. His body is convulsing and his vision is blurring.

_Breathe in._

But Oikawa can’t.

 

****10 Days Earlier** **

“It was okay. Not your usual, but still okay.”

The comment didn’t surprise Iwaizumi. With the hefty workload he needs to do following the last three months of his fellowship program and the stress of dealing with his high-profile, high-maintenance family among other things currently occupying his mind, Iwaizumi somehow expected it will affect his sexual performance—but it still irritated his pride.

“I’m sorry, I thought you were having a blast since you moaned my name and everything,” Iwaizumi responded nonchalantly.

Oikawa snickers. “It was to encourage you.”

With Oikawa lying on his side, Iwaizumi cannot see the face Oikawa made as he said those words. Most likely a mocking grin if he meant his words, or a small side smile if he was just teasing. Iwaizumi isn’t sure which is better. Instead of letting Oikawa mess with his already busy mind, Iwaizumi scoots closer. His hand that was drawing lazy circles on Oikawa’s shoulder travel down along the side of his hip and onto his waist. Iwaizumi’s face rested by Oikawa’s nape, so close that Oikawa can feel warmth with every breath Iwaizumi took.

In response, Oikawa slightly moves to place some distance between them, although he does nothing to get Iwaizumi’s hand off him.

Silence fell upon them, again. With only the sound of a clock ticking from the far corner of his spacey room and the occasional wind slamming tree branches onto the window, the tiny voice inside Iwaizumi’s head became bolder, louder to the point that Iwaizumi wonders if Oikawa can hear it too.

_I can’t do this anymore, I like you._

The sentence, despite formulated in very simple words felt near impossible to voice. It weighs heavier than the time Iwaizumi had to convince his family to let him pursue medicine, and the outcome of the declaration is more difficult to predict—even compared to the time Iwaizumi had to explain his choice of specialization field to his father.

It started roughly two years ago, at a party held in the imperial palace. As the only son of the current prime minister of Japan, of course Iwaizumi Hajime was present. Oikawa was there too, he looks dashing in his tailored suit and rather odd in the midst of middle-aged men and women who seem interested in whatever the young man is talking about. Iwaizumi didn’t know who Oikawa was, but he knew two things for certain: the light brown-haired man is gorgeous, and he must be an important figure in the government, otherwise he won’t get an invitation. Turns out Iwaizumi was only half right. Oikawa is indeed an important figure but not in the way Iwaizumi thought he is. Oikawa’s not a politician like most party attendees are. He’s not a military officer like Ushijima. Neither is he the personal assistant of a high-ranked leader like Akaashi or Sugawara. Oikawa Tooru is a Koanchosa field agent specializing in national security, and Iwaizumi only learned of it months after their first meeting—and after they slept together at least twice.

On the other hand, Oikawa immediately knew who Iwaizumi is—as anybody in their country would. Iwaizumi Hajime, the prime minister’s son and a medical resident at Tokyo Tokugawa General Hospital. However, that information didn’t stop Oikawa from letting Iwaizumi approach him and eventually fool around a bit when things got boring. They crossed paths again a few weeks later and once again a month after. The fourth time they met wasn’t coincidental, but rather planned. Oikawa probably should have known better than to start anything with anyone from a prominent family like Iwaizumi’s, but their compatibility is just too good to ignore. Besides, it’s just a physical thing, they both agreed to it. It’s harmless. It’s just fun and games.

Until it isn’t anymore.

_Hey, Oikawa. Laugh all you want, but I think I have feelings for you._

“Hey, Oikawa—” However, the words Iwaizumi wanted to voice remain unspoken as he felt an unnatural bump along Oikawa’s waist. Just barely, but still recognizable as Iwaizumi has ran his fingers along Oikawa’s sides more times than he can count. “What’s this?”

Oikawa raises his head from the pillows upon hearing the question. Iwaizumi pulls the thin blanket aside, revealing the dark red coloured bruise in contrast to Oikawa’s pale white skin.

“Oh,” Oikawa drops his tired head back down. “Weekly training. Stupid newbie agent crashed into me.”

Oikawa pulls the blanket over his legs again and up to his chest. With his face buried between the pillows, Oikawa missed the displeased expression taking over Iwaizumi’s face.

“And here I thought you didn’t want to do it from the front because you’re shy.”

Although formulated as a joke, the tone Iwaizumi used doesn’t sound like it at all. He’s concerned, but if there’s one thing he learned from all the time he spent with Oikawa is that his friend with benefits react badly to even the slightest bit of affection. It defies our agreement, Oikawa once said.

“Oh please. If anything I didn’t want to see your stupid climaxing face,” Oikawa torts.

 _You have a stupid climaxing face_. Iwaizumi decided not to voice his lame grade school-esque response because one; there is no way he can out-sass Oikawa, and two; it’s a blatant lie. Sure, Oikawa has his idiotic moments but in bed -or against any flat surface for that matter- while moaning Iwaizumi’s name and drowning in pleasure is not one of those moments.

“Did you get it checked?” Iwaizumi asked instead. Oikawa hummed an answer. He carefully ran the tip of his fingers along the bruised skin, sending Oikawa shivers as he does. “You should be more careful—”

“Iwa-chan, what are you, my mom?” Oikawa’s words came out like his usual snarky remarks, but he is, like Iwaizumi, using a questionably irritated voice tone.

Instead of replying, Iwaizumi lets out a sigh. Not obnoxiously, just enough to show that he’s acknowledged the stained atmosphere of the room. They’ve been like this for a while now. Although Iwaizumi has lost count of the many times he had Oikawa under him, under his mercy, or the numerous occasions when Oikawa takes lead and gets the work done for them both, Iwaizumi remembers with exact precision when their no strings attached agreement started to crumble.

It began a month ago when Iwaizumi started taking his time lying by Oikawa’s side, just like now, instead of immediately hitting the shower like he usually would. He started noticing the grace in Oikawa’s physique, the curves that shape his facial features and the breath-taking beauty that contradicted his gruesome line of work. He started feeling guilty for leaving Oikawa in the messy state he is, so Iwaizumi would carry him to bed if they’re not already there and clean up as much as he can without waking Oikawa. Iwaizumi began thinking of Oikawa even when the said man isn’t present, began wondering if Oikawa thinks of him in his spare time as well. Iwaizumi began letting himself fall asleep with Oikawa in his arms, soaking his warmth and most times, Iwaizumi would wake up with Oikawa returning the gesture; clinging onto him like his life depends on it.

It was a bliss, one that didn’t last long. Oikawa’s first to react to the shifting dynamics of their relationship, leaving Iwaizumi no room for things other than the sexual endeavor they agreed upon. Sometimes he’d respond to Iwaizumi’s approaches with a joke, other times he’d act visibly irritated at the affection he didn’t sign up for. And in times when he’s physically exhausted and mentally strained, such as now, Oikawa would use a little bit of both.

“I’m just saying,” Iwaizumi gave in to Oikawa’s irritation. “Just because it looks trivial, doesn’t mean it is.”

Iwaizumi is attentive, even without a medical license with his name on it he would still remind Oikawa to have it checked. But it didn’t stop Oikawa from having those conflicted feelings overcoming his common sense yet again. Feelings that can and will bring nothing but danger to him, to Iwaizumi and to the nation he swore to protect.

Oikawa moves more to the side, shaking Iwaizumi’s hand off him and emphasizing the gap that should exist between them. Iwaizumi sighs before getting up and off the bed.

“Get some rest,” he said just as he makes way to the bathroom.

Oikawa buries his face into the goose feather pillows as he waits for the sound of water running from the shower. There were times when he’d sneak in to join Iwaizumi, and there are other times he’d tidy up while waiting for his turn. Today he does neither. Oikawa only wiped himself with wet tissues and tried to make himself presentable despite his wrinkled suit and stained shirt that Iwaizumi impatiently threw aside hours earlier. As Oikawa silently exits the room, he wonders if this is finally the time he is able to cut ties with the prince. He’s been meaning to do so since he noticed the subtle changes in Iwaizumi’s behaviour. That’s one reason, but the more deciding factor is the fact that he too, is starting to crave more than just physical pleasure.

 

 ****8** ** ****Days Earlier** **

“Oikawa-san, do you have a moment?”

Upon the intrusion, Oikawa spins his chair in an unnecessarily dramatic manner and rests his chin on both hands. “For you Tobio, never.”

Kageyama would have taken a step back from intimidation if it wasn’t for their commanding officer pushing him in place.

“So, Bo wasn’t exaggerating when he said the Grand King is being extra annoying,” Kuroo steps in with a displeased frown on his face.

Oikawa grimaces. “That coming from Bokuto is an exaggeration per se.”

At least Bokuto is easily-excited kind of annoying, much like that newbie orange-haired counter-terrorism agent he took in as his mentee; whereas Oikawa is jerkass-annoying.

“Well, commander,” Oikawa purrs and turns his seat to face both his visitors. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Kuroo signals Kageyama to step forward and present his case.

“Day 12, month 09. Log number HX456. You reported a mission accomplish with the following description—”

“You went through my mission logs?” Oikawa hissed, thus cutting Kageyama’s report short.

“I gave him permission,” Kuroo states.

“Rude.”

“It’s related to his case.”

“I don’t care. Rude,” Oikawa folds his arms across his chest. Kuroo was an agent as well before going up the commanding office, to some extent, he understood Oikawa’s annoyance. Mission logs contain all things related to past cases. They also record the sensitive information obtained during the case. Fallen into the wrong hands, mission logs can be used against the agent who reported it—accuse them of wrong doings or used to steal confidential information known only by the said agent.

 “You would want to see this, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama says again. He spreads the files in his hands across Oikawa’s desk. “This is your mission log from three years ago. Video footage and com recordings are available to support your report—“

“You think I’d lie in a report?” Oikawa cuts off yet again, voice thick with offence.

“Listen to what Kageyama has to say. He may be new but knows what he’s doing,” Kuroo says flatly.

Oikawa rolls his eyes.

“However this,” Kageyama pulls a piece of paper out of the staple and places it right beside Oikawa’s old mission log. “This is from yesterday and it’s a match.”

It’s like there is a switch that is flipped in the back of Oikawa’s head. He sat up straight and gave the two mission logs his undivided attention. The recording date is three years apart, indicating one is his and the other is from Kageyama. The name, written in bold, in both reports are the exact same but the status is different. Oikawa’s mission log reports the man as eliminated, whereas Kageyama listed the exact same man as a suspect. Kageyama even has proof showing that the supposed dead-man was seen downtown Tokyo. Oikawa quickly goes through the rest of Kageyama’s case and read through the evidence supporting the younger agent’s investigation. If Oikawa’s heart skipped a beat, he hid it well, because from Kuroo and Kageyama’s point of view they saw close to zero change in his face.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Oikawa mutters under his breath. Both reports are accurate, yet they deliver results with grave differences.

“It’s okay Oikawa, we all make mistakes at some point,” Kuroo said with slight tease. But Oikawa isn’t in the mood to beat the bushes.

“It’s _not_ a mistake,” Oikawa hissed in slight offence. “I did my job and reported it accordingly. If anyone made a mistake it’s gotta be him.”

Oikawa throws Kageyama a side stare.

“Nope,” Kuroo ensures. “You taught him well, Oikawa. Like master like student.”

“Then what is my dead target doing in his suspect list?” Oikawa raised his voice, finally showing a hint of frustration. Any agent would feel humiliated having their closed case reopened, let alone a high-ranking agent like Oikawa.

“That is for the two of you to figure out,” Kuroo said. “Drop whatever case you’re currently working on and clean this mess by the end of the week. Kageyama, looks like your first official solo case will have to wait.”

Kageyama stuttered while answering, mostly because of Oikawa’s immediate protest.

“No. No, I am not working with him,” Oikawa jumps off his seat and stands right in front of Kuroo.

Kuroo raised an eyebrow. “Why? You’ve worked with Kageyama before.”

“Indeed I have, which is why I’m telling you it’s a bad idea,” Oikawa said. “We’re both placed in national security from the beginning.”

“Does this have a point or are you just showing off?” Kuroo folds his arms across his chest.

 Oikawa and Kuroo entered the agency in the same period and Oikawa was the only one in their year eligible for immediate placement in the national security division, followed by Kageyama years later. It’s a rare occurrence since the agency prefers to temper their agents’ skills in other divisions before entrusting them with such sensitive matters. But once in a blue moon, the agency would stumble upon incredibly dedicated, smart and cunning recruits like Oikawa or those with raw potential such as Kageyama and when they do, the agency makes exceptions.

“I’m pointing out facts,” Oikawa says with annoyance in his voice. “Neither of us are used to coordinating with on-site partners.”

Kuroo unwillingly acknowledge the truth in Oikawa’s words. National security is the only Koanchosa division where their agents are not assigned fixed partners.

“You want me to clean up this mess, fine, I’ll do it. I’ll kill that bastard _again_ if that makes you happy, but I am not having him on my case,” Oikawa said loud and clear.

Kuroo slightly worries that Kageyama would take offence, but then he remembers; Kageyama probably feels the same. The newcomer agent’s respect and admiration for his mentor and direct senior is often seen written all over his face, but so is the intimidation. Being in the first batch of new agents to start under his command, Kuroo unconsciously granted Kageyama more attention than others and Kuroo knows for certain, there is no one Kageyama looks up to and at the same time fears more than Oikawa.

“Have some manners Oikawa, you're hijacking his case. Not the other way around.”

“Well you know what Tetsu,” Oikawa threw his hands in the air, so close to fed up. “Have Kageyama finish the job. He’s a full-fledged agent now, is he not? Welcome to national security, Tobio-chan, here we don’t have friends.”

“I swear you are much more work compared to the new recruits,” Kuroo forcefully places the documents in Kageyama’s hands on Oikawa’s desk. “Be his back-up and that’s not a request.”

Oikawa slowly, angrily breathed through his teeth.

“I don’t think you see the bigger picture here Tooru,” Kuroo says in a mockingly casual way. “Someone from your kill-list just rose from the dead and attempted to steal confidential documents.”

Oikawa’s eyes widen. Slightly, but it did.

“Hey Kageyama, unlike other divisions, national security only has one rule—that’s all we need, all we ask of you elites. Recite it for me,” Kuroo says without breaking eye contact with Oikawa.

“Get the job done,” Kageyama says. He managed not to stutter although being in between the two highest ranked officers in the agency made him feel beyond uncomfortable.

“Exactly,” Kuroo says in satisfaction. He taps the files with his index finger to give it a final emphasize, “Get the job done, Oikawa.”

Oikawa gave Kageyama a final glance before turning his stare back to the commanding officer, “Yes, _sir_.”

“Atta boy,” Kuroo gives his final note, ignoring the sarcastic remark in Oikawa’s affirmation. Although Kuroo is higher in the commanding line, Oikawa is arguably national security’s most valuable player—his words and actions are not to be taken lightly.

Kuroo spent no second longer than needed. He exits the room and signals Kageyama to follow him back to his office, which the young agent follows gladly. Nobody wants to be in the same room as a pissed Oikawa, especially not when you’re far below him in the hierarchy line. Kuroo’s steps are paced fast enough to hint Kageyama that Oikawa isn’t the only one displeased by the recent turn of events. As Kageyama stole discreet stares through the one-way windows of the hallway, he found his commander’s upset expression, second only those of Oikawa’s.

“Sugar coating gets us nowhere, so I’m going to be blunt with you,” Kuroo starts as they reach an elevator. “This case is a train wreck. Under different circumstances, I would have transferred it to another agent. But you’ve progressed much despite being new and since it concerns Oikawa’s old case, he would be there to back you up.”

The elevator makes a soft _ding_ before opening its doors.

“However, the fact that the case revolves around Oikawa irritates me,” Kuroo admits as they enter.

“How so, sir?” Kageyama asked. “Is it because of the main suspect?”

“That’s one thing. Oikawa has the highest success-rate among our current active agents, so having a man he supposedly eliminated rise from the dead raised more questions than any of us can answer,” Kuroo says. “But what’s bothering me even more, is him being your mentor.”

“Former mentor, sir,” Kageyama felt the need to emphasize his one year anniversary as a full-fledged agent of Koanchosa. “How is me being under his supervision relevant?”

“I’m just not a fan of more than one coincidence regarding the same people happening within a short time frame. Let’s call it a hunch, you’ll understand after a few solo missions,” Kuroo says as he throws Kageyama a side glance. Kageyama is by far the most talented Koanchosa’s ever recruited, but what is potential if not polished by experience.

Kageyama nods and answers, “Wilco, sir.”

The elevator reached their floor. The doors open and Kuroo leads the way back to his office.

“Oikawa’s wrong about one thing, though,” Kuroo felt the need to make it clear. “You do have friends in national security. Just not in a conventional way that we’re used to.”

For the first time, Kageyama failed to respond to his commander.

“In national security, trust is a resource, like food, water, or extra ammo. Their high-level cases are so fragile they have potential to start a war. That being said, knowing whom to trust is fundamental, which is why experienced agents tend to draw lines, categorizing people as trustworthy or not and it all happens subconsciously. Unfortunate for you, Oikawa sees you as a wild card. He has caught double-agents within the agency before, so that’s one reason for him to be cautious of new recruits, and you’re still too inexperienced for him to acknowledge professionally,” Kuroo said. They have reached the office, but Kuroo took his time before opening the door. “What I’m trying to say is, Oikawa’s attitude is a handful. It is a combination of his personality and the work ethic he’s developed over the years. So don’t let his assy remarks get you down. You’re doing fine, Kageyama, and I believe Oikawa thinks so too.”

“Yes sir.”

Kuroo nods and opens the door, but before entering he quickly adds, “And stop with the sir. It sounds… wrong.”

“You mean it sounds kinky!” Bokuto screeches from inside the office. Kuroo lets out a tired sigh before finally moving on with his work day.

 

****5 Days Earlier** **

“So, Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa starts a conversation while sterilizing their equipment, “Rumor has it you’re leaving Tokugawa Hospital after the fellowship ends.”

Iwaizumi sighs, “Well... I haven’t talked to my family yet. So until then, just assume I’m leaving.”

“That’s not what I meant, my liege,” Matsukawa continued, without forgetting his favorite tease of course. After almost three years of sharing the same workspace, Iwaizumi gave up on trying to stop Mattsun with the exaggerating titles. “I mean you’re leaving the hospital for another institution.”

This time Iwaizumi turned his head in Matsukawa’s direction. “Who told you that?”

“That acceptance letter from Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department lying around your desk,” Matsukawa points with his head.

“The hell Issei! I can’t believe you went through my stuff,” Iwaizumi protests.

“It was wide open and for goodness sake, Iwa, if you give me back my pens after you borrow them I wouldn’t have to go through your desk in the first place,” Matsukawa refuses the blame.

He’s right about Iwaizumi not returning borrowed stuff though, and about the job offer too.

“So am I right?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Iwaizumi responds after a pause.

“Why would you even want to go there,” Matsukawa remarks. He takes another set of equipment to sterilize while they continue their conversation. “Even with an M.D. behind your name, the people there don’t see you as a doctor—or as a medical expert at all. They only care about results, results, results while ignoring the fact that these procedures take time.”

“You seem to know a lot about the police department,” Iwaizumi notes.

“A friend of mine from med school is an examiner in Hakodate, I believe it won’t be much different in Tokyo,” Matsukawa says. “We’re in a research hospital, Iwa. You’ll learn so much more here than anywhere else.”

“I know,” Iwaizumi answers with a sigh, “But honestly, that’s the least of my problems.”

Matsukawa knows what Iwaizumi meant—his family. Iwaizumi’s family is an odd one, to say the least. First is their fame following Hajime’s father’s position as the head of the nation. Then there’s Hajime’s mother who for some reason wanted him to study politics because apparently their family has been prominent politicians for generations. And of course, the last blow would be Hajime’s choice of specialization, forensic pathology. Instead of healing people, Iwaizumi works with dead bodies and carry through autopsies—which he is surprisingly good at. Personally, Mattsun doesn’t see a problem with Iwaizumi’s (and therefore his own) choice of career, but perhaps the prime minister and his wife had other considerations in mind.

“Anyways, on a more important matter,” Matsukawa chirps the moment he realized he’s overstepped his boundaries. “Saturday evening, two sets of volleyball free game. Losing team pays for food, winners get to choose which bar. You’re coming, I’m one wing spiker short.”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widen. “Wait whoa, I thought the court is reserved for basketball on Saturdays.”

“It’s not the hospital staff association I’m talking about. You see, I don’t usually go to this gym but the guys in radiology—”

“Radiology? Wait, that Hana-something fella is in radiology, isn’t he?” Iwaizumi points out. “You just want to impress him!”

Matsukawa laughs and shakes his head. “Wha—? How dare you, of course not!”

Iwaizumi scoffs.

“Alright, okay, fine you got me. But come the fuck on Hajime, you gotta help me out here!” Matsukawa has both hands crossed across his chest.

Before Iwaizumi can answer, the door to the morgue swings open followed with a set of familiar footsteps. “He can’t come.”

Both Iwaizumi and Matsukawa turn their head to the source of the voice. There stands Sawamura Daichi, the prime minister’s son’s personal bodyguard. He is dressed in casual attire yet still presentable. He has an earpiece for communications, barely visible but for Iwaizumi who grew up surrounded by security personnel and Matsukawa who already spent three years as Iwaizumi’s co-worker, they can easily spot it. Daichi was newly assigned to Iwaizumi, being on the job for a few months. They’re at the same age and share similar interests, it was purposely made so since Iwaizumi kept refusing having bodyguards around him.

“Sorry,” Daichi adds sincerely apologetic as he closes the door behind him.

“And why is that?” Matsukawa asked. On the other hand, Iwaizumi is immediately reminded why.

“Diplomatic dinner at the Kantei official residence, I completely forgot,” Iwaizumi sighed. “Bad timing Mattsun, you’re gonna have to find yourself another wing man.”

“Wing _spiker_ ,” Matsukawa insisted.

“Whatever,” Iwaizumi teased as he dries his hands and takes off his white coat.

“Was I here early?” Daichi asked as he helped Iwaizumi with his coat.

“Nah, we just had a bit more to do today,” Iwaizumi answers.

“What about him?” Matsukawa asked loudly, still having a tray of equipment to clean. He looks in Daichi’s direction, “Iwaizumi told me you play too.”

“Duh, in nationals,” Daichi answered rather proudly.

“Third year high school, don’t start a conversation Mattsun. Trust me he can’t shut up,” Iwaizumi warned. He zips his coat as he adds, “And no, if I can’t play volleyball because of a stupid diplomatic event, neither is my bodyguard.”

Matsukawa huffs a protest.

“Maybe next time, Matsukawa-san,” Daichi says with a chuckle as he opens the morgue door for both him and Iwaizumi.

 

****4 Days Earlier** **

“I don’t have access to Kantei’s archives,” Oikawa groans in frustration. He grabs a handful of his hair and whines louder, “I need access to Kantei’s archives!”

“How can you not have access?” Bokuto asks, “I thought national-security agents always have access.”

Seeing that Oikawa is ignoring Bokuto, Kageyama took the initiative to answer, “Permits expire. We only get access during an active mission.”

“This doesn’t count as an active mission?” Bokuto raises an eyebrow.

“Yes and no. It’s complicated,” Kageyama said. “Our government rep gave a helping hand though. He’s really fast in processing inquiries.”

“Yeah but still not fast enough,” Oikawa huffs.

Bokuto stops going through the case files and threw Oikawa a curious stare. “Something’s bothering you.”

“Gee I wonder why,” Oikawa responds sarcastically.

“No no, I mean something other than your dead target coming back to life.” Although Oikawa’s been hearing it often lately, having it pointed out still hurts his pride.

“I’ve been working on it for days and still no leads, so pardon me for being easily irritated.”

“Nah Tooru-chan, you’re always easily irritated,” Bokuto laughed it off. However, Kageyama is starting to feel uncomfortable seeing Oikawa’s patience being pushed. “I mean something _personal_ is bothering you.”

Oikawa threw a nasty stare. It startled Kageyama, but for Bokuto who’s known Oikawa for years now, knows that his guess hit the jackpot.

“I’m not used to working in teams, alright? There, that’s what’s bothering me! I like my case studies as silent as an abandoned town but now I have to work with not one but two other people,” Oikawa finally snaps. He slams his notebook and stands from his chair, “I need a break.”

Oikawa stomps his way out of the room. Kageyama watched in awkward silence while Bokuto crosses his arms across his chest and snickers.

“Something is bothering him,” Kageyama finally says. Though their relationship is far from what one would call close, Kageyama was Oikawa’s mentee. He knows what ticks Oikawa and Bokuto’s teases certainly isn’t one of them.

“I bet it’s a guy,” Bokuto says straight to the point. He threw an excited look towards Kageyama, “Ten bucks says it’s a guy. What’s your bet?”

Kageyama’s eyes widen and he stutters upon answering, “I--I don’t think that’s appropriate.”

“Nonsense! Kuroo and I do it all the time,” Bokuto says with a blasting laugh.

 

****3 Days Earlier** **

“You don’t usually hang around this part of the residence.”

Iwaizumi flinched at the sudden intrusion. Then a light pat reached his shoulder, followed by a silver-haired figure stepping by his side.

“Sugawara-san,” Iwaizumi barely hid his stutter. “Don’t mind me.”

It’s not in Iwaizumi’s nature to act jumpy, especially not in front of Sugawara Koushi. The youngest executive administration staff member is arguably the only person Iwaizumi is fond of in the prime minister’s office. His pleasant personality aside, Sugawara is the only one around Iwaizumi’s age, which is impressive remembering his role as a government representative for a national institution.

“I thought you’d be at the hospital in this time of the day,” Sugawara said as he begins sorting his documents. “Besides, I thought you have no interest whatsoever in governmental issues.”

“I don’t,” Iwaizumi confirms. For that exact reason he hates having to live in the prime minister’s official residence as it also serves as an office, meeting hall and even crisis management center. “There’s just something I need to find out.”

Sugawara hums an answer and takes a peek at the section Iwaizumi’s digging into. A cheerful smile grew on his face as he says, “Ah, you’re looking through logs from the Ministry of Justice! I used to work there, how can I help?”

“Uhm, well,” Iwaizumi hesitates. _Do you know where I can find Koanchosa’s protocol for their national security agents?_

“What _are_ you looking for, really?” Sugawara asks again, now with an eyebrow raised. People often praise Sugawara for his ability to catch fine details, but Iwaizumi would say that Sugawara’s best quality is his intuition. Of course Sugawara can see the logs he’s holding and the section he’s going through, but without good intuition he wouldn’t be able to guess something off is going on.

“Protocols for national security agents.” Iwaizumi decides there is no hiding from Sugawara Koushi.

“You’re playing in dangerous waters, Iwaizumi-san,” Suga says in a surprisingly calm manner. Well, Suga is always calm, Iwaizumi just thought he’d react differently knowing someone’s going through sensitive documents.

“I know, I know.”

“If you weren’t an Iwaizumi, I would have to report this suspicious activity to the prime minister.”

“Yes, I know, I get it,” Iwaizumi tiredly says. He then quickly adds, “Please don’t though, I swear I’m just curious.”

“But why so sudden,” Suga seems intrigued.

_Because I have feelings for a Koanchosa agent and I want to know what our chances are, administratively speaking._

“There’s an autopsy case at the hospital with no background information,” Iwaizumi started making something up. “I was wondering if the victim has ties to a governmental institution since I couldn’t find any other explanation.”

Fortunately, Suga seems to buy the story.

“Oh if that’s the case, I’m afraid you won’t find anything here. Most of our larger institutions have their own designated forensic department. Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department has one, for example, the military too.”

“I see,” Iwaizumi places the documents back to the shelf. “I guess I’ve been lurking around for nothing.”

It seems like he has to come back to the archives some other time, preferably when Suga is off to the institution he’s assigned to. What was it again?

“You know, if you’re really curious about a certain governmental institution, you can try asking someone.” Suga’s words made Iwaizumi’s heart skip a beat. _A certain governmental institution_ , he said. Indeed, Sugawara Koushi has exceptional intuition.

“Can I ask you, Sugawara-san?” Iwaizumi slowly turns to face Suga.

“Not me, unfortunately. I’m strictly tied by regulations,” Suga said. “But I know someone who can and apparently, you two are quite close.”

Iwaizumi sincerely hopes that Suga doesn’t catch the shock overcoming his nerves. You two are quite close, what the hell is _that_ supposed to mean? Does Sugawara know about him and Oikawa?

“Have you tried talking with Sawamura?”

Suga’s words answered few of Iwaizumi’s questions but raised new ones as well.

“Daichi-san?”

Suga nods, “Or are you too busy running away from him?”

Iwaizumi scratches the back of his non-itchy head.

“You’re going to get yourself in trouble if you keep that up.”

“Ah sorry.” Truth is, Iwaizumi hates having personal guards. It makes him feel like a child when he is a properly functioning adult with a stable career.

“Anyways if you’re really interested in domestic and foreign affairs, Daichi should be able to help you out. He has field experience after all,” Suga starts working with his own documents as they talk. “I’m sure he’d be thrilled to help.”

Iwaizumi watches as Suga sorts and collects the documents he need. They’ve known each other for a while now, since Sugawara started in the prime minister’s office two years ago, to be precise. However, only now Iwaizumi realized that their relation is an odd one. Not formal but not friendly either, which is a shame since Suga looks like a pleasant person to be around with.

“Speaking of Sawamura,” Iwaizumi shifts the discussion away from him. “You two seem close even though Daichi’s only been around for a couple months.”

“You think so?” Suga answers with a laugh. “Then I guess we are.”

Seeing the slight blush on Sugawara’s cheek bone, Iwaizumi needs no further explanation.


	2. Mind Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So after dwelling with hefty university work for the past few weeks, I "accidentaly" wrote 12.6k words for this series... enjoy! (and do let me know if you enjoyed it, I'm lonely guys, tis sad)

There’s a body in the morgue.

The statement sounds completely normal remembering what a morgue is for, but the sight Iwaizumi is presented with begs to differ. There’s a body in the morgue, to be precise, on a chair by the cabinet. _Who is that?_  Iwaizumi found blood—lots of blood painting the otherwise pristine white tiles of the floor. He wasn’t the last to leave from today’s shift, but no medical professional in their right minds would leave the morgue in this state. Which of course raised a following question, _what happened?_

Iwaizumi decides to find an answer to his first question before pondering the next. He carefully enters the morgue, having blood on his shoe soles would be very inconvenient, and approaches the body slumped by the utensil cabinet. Any other person would probably freak out, but for Iwaizumi, who slices open dead bodies for a living, the sight is far from gruesome.

It was, however, until the ‘body’ flinched in reflects, indicating signs of life. That is when Iwaizumi snaps into action. Help first, ask questions later. Whoa, when was the last time he had to prevent death instead of examining what caused it? It must have been back during his interning years.

Iwaizumi should work fast if he wants to have a chance in saving this poor man’s life. _Should_ , being the key word. The fact is he couldn’t, not after recognizing the body built, the hands, the messed up hair and finally, the face of the dying man in his morgue.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi breathed out.

With one hand rummaging for medical supplies and the other gripping his open wound, Iwaizumi immediately saw what Oikawa was trying to do. Without doubt Oikawa intended to patch himself up. Iwaizumi quickly yet cautiously checks for pulse (irregular) then observes his breathing (barely).

“What did you get yourself into,” Iwaizumi hisses as he checks the rest of Oikawa’s vitals.

Bad. Everything is bad. He is seconds away from cardiac arrest, and that is a place most never return from. Despite how it is portrayed in television, the survival rate of in-hospital cardiac arrest is as low as 24%. Their best option is to prevent it from even happening.

_Chest compression, stat._

Iwaizumi places his hands on Oikawa’s chest for CPR. 5 centimeters deep at a rate of 100 to 120 beats per minute.  Iwaizumi harshly pushes down in rhythm while his eyes observe Oikawa’s condition. Scratches, signs of hand combat, but the only visible open wound is the one on his upper abdomen.

Gunshot? No, Iwaizumi can tell just by looking at the blood pattern. Iwaizumi made a mental note to stop that bleeding after he restores Oikawa’s breathing.

“Come on, work with me!” Iwaizumi grunts, but earned almost zero response.

_Artificial ventilation._

Iwaizumi leans down to blow air into Oikawa’s mouth. Then he places his hands back on Oikawa’s chest and perform more chest compression. CPR is a harsh procedure, one that is necessary to delay necrosis. Iwaizumi is certain Oikawa will have chest pains later—if he survives.

“I said work with me!” Iwaizumi yells. He places his mouth onto Oikawa’s again, attempting resuscitation and forcing air into Oikawa’s airway.

“I’m not going to make this easy on you, got that?” Iwaizumi is practically screaming.

_More compression._

“Respond, asshole!” Iwaizumi yells angrily.

_Again, try it again._

“Please!”

Iwaizumi lands one final, harsh push onto Oikawa’s chest before leaning down to listen for a heartbeat.

And he found one. Good, for now, but Oikawa is not out of danger just yet.

While CPR is intended to get oxygen into a person’s lungs, it does nothing to correct one’s irregular heart beat—for that they need electrical shock. Having learned it all in medical school, Iwaizumi knows how television wrongly portrays defibrillators. The electric shocks cannot restart a flat-lined heart, it doesn’t work that way. A defibrillator can only restore a weak, viable heart beat back to its normal rhythm.

With that in mind, Iwaizumi knows Oikawa needs that shock or else it will all be for nothing. Iwaizumi knows he has to get a defibrillator and fast. Unfortunately, the morgue has none. Why would it need one anyways? Anybody ending up in this room is beyond saving.

 

**50 hours earlier**

On any other occasion, Kageyama Tobio would be thrilled to complete an investigation with positive results. He was given the task to review and trace back Oikawa’s case from three years ago. It’s not unusual for cases being peer-reviewed by fellow agents for it provides an extra pair of eyes to catch missed details or inconsistencies. It is, however, unusual for cases that’s older than two years. Kageyama never once doubted Oikawa’s work, he is, after all, the embodiment of Kageyama’s definition of a perfect national security agent, but that belief puts him in a difficult situation. If Oikawa’s case is flawless then his must be the one at fault. Respect and adoration aside, Kageyama is more than sure he did his job accordingly.

At this point Kageyama is dying to have this anomaly resolved. The tension within the team consisting of him, Oikawa and Bokuto as the counter-terrorism specialist, is almost impossible to bear at this point. God knows Oikawa is barely holding himself together, not with his credibility on the line, and that mixed with Bokuto’s tendency to talk louder, faster and without filter when under pressure is a time bomb. Kageyama clearly doesn’t want to be in the same room as two highly experienced, specially trained agents with the ability to kill when that bubble burst. Talking to Kuroo doesn’t help either. The commanding officer has his own share of the pressure, mostly coming from the ministry.

Kageyama takes a deep breath before entering the office. He’ll have to deliver the news to the team, to both Oikawa and Bokuto, and it won’t be pretty. Oikawa’s review on Kageyama’s case is still ongoing, but as per today, he still couldn’t find a fault in Kageyama’s methods—as much as it irritates Oikawa. Kageyama grab hold of the door knob, gives it a gentle push but immediately holds back when he found the room half abandoned.

He was expecting Bokuto crossing over his heaps of documentation with both enthusiasm and exaggeration or Oikawa screaming at whichever poor unfortunate analyst is at the end of his call. Instead, there is silence. There are traces of Bokuto’s work spread across the room and Oikawa’s handwriting all over the case board they built to help visualize the case, showing the aftermath of a supposedly heated argument. Kageyama took a brave step into the room, which now looks more like a war zone than an office, but immediately steps back as he noticed a figure slumping at the corner table. It’s Oikawa, looking the most miserable Kageyama has seen. He has his prescription glasses on as he leans his head onto the desk. His eyes are closed and his hand is holding his phone by his ear.

“Iwa-chan, hi.”

Now Kageyama is glad he decided to step back. The way that phone call began, it doesn’t sound like anything Oikawa would want his colleagues to know of.

“Of course it’s me, silly.”

Oikawa sounds... surprisingly soft.

“Is it a bad time? I’m not disturbing anything am I?”

Then there’s a pause from Oikawa’s side.

“I was wondering if I could come over later.” Oikawa asked with uncertainty and Kageyama knows for a fact that Oikawa Tooru is never uncertain.

“Huh? It’s a simple yes or no question, idiot. Stop changing the topic and answer me,” Oikawa rubs his eyes. Then there’s a laugh, Oikawa’s laugh, and if Kageyama didn’t witness it with his own two eyes he would have thought it’s an urban legend. Because everybody knows the kind of laughs Oikawa offers the world are either diabolical or sarcastic.

“I needed a quick answer hence the phone call, Iwa-chan.”

Oikawa takes off his glasses and shifts to his side.

“Great, that’s good to hear—”

The other party seems to cut his words short.

“I’m fine.”

Kageyama knew it’s a big fat lie.

“No really, I am. Stop reading too much into this,” Oikawa immediately sat up straight, nuances of his usual persona is starting to take over again. “I’ll see you later, alright? The usual.”

Oikawa ends the call after that, though Kageyama is admittedly curious to know if _Iwa-chan_  tried to avoid the conversation from stopping abruptly. Because Oikawa’s next move implied that.

“Way to go Tooru,” Oikawa sighed with his head pressing onto his desk and his hands dangling down the side.

As if the universe wanted Kageyama to know more, Oikawa’s sulking position gave the junior agent a better look of the phone screen on his hand. It shows caller’s contact details. Oikawa must be fond of him because not only there is a wink emoji behind the contact name, it’s also set with a picture. It shows a man with short black hair, muscular back and skin tone a shade darker than Oikawa’s. It’s clearly without his consent as he is seen from the side and shirtless and appears to be taken at a moment of impulse by the photographer which can only be Oikawa himself.

“The fuck is wrong with me.” Oikawa slaps the sides of his face to get himself back together. He sits upright, puts his glasses back on and takes a deep breath as he dives into the mountain of case files spread. And that is Kageyama’s cue to enter the room.

Although curiosity still lingers, Kageyama knows better than to sniff into Oikawa’s personal life. He decided to keep his new findings to himself, because if word goes out Commander Kuroo would have to pay Bokuto his ten bucks. And Kageyama secretly wanted Kuroo to win the bet, because Bokuto’s liveliness often tickles his patience as well, although not as much as Hinata does.

 

**40 hours earlier**

With every meeting, Iwaizumi learns something new of Oikawa. The first was his name, _Oikawa_ , then his given name, _Tooru_. The next was his occupation, _Koanchosa field agent_ , and followed by his specialization, _national security_. Afterwards it was Oikawa’s phone number and then the fact that he almost always has Thursday evenings free unless of a national emergency. The rest varies, ranging from his favorite food, _milk bread_ , his weirdest obsession, _extraterrestrial life_ , to his filthiest fantasies, _the same as Iwaizumi’s_. In the span of two years Iwaizumi gathered plenty of information regarding Oikawa. Not the kind that could be used against him, but rather the kind of information that made Iwaizumi grew fond of Oikawa Tooru beyond their sexual endeavors.

Tonight, Iwaizumi learned that Oikawa is not as invincible as he wants the world to believe. He learned that Oikawa can get overwhelmed by work, just like an average office worker can. Iwaizumi always knew Oikawa tends to drop by when he’s fed up with a case; a little distraction never hurts, he once said. But this, what they have now, is a whole different level. 

Oikawa lets out a whimper as he struggles to pull the blanket higher up his chest. Considering their position, spooning with Oikawa wrapped in his arms, Iwaizumi could only see bits of Oikawa’s face. Iwaizumi pulls Oikawa closer, the scent of his hair dominating the air he breathes. Iwaizumi felt his bare chest pressed on Oikawa’s back and as if that wasn’t enough, Iwaizumi rests his chin onto the crook of Oikawa’s neck. Oikawa’s body felt warm and Iwaizumi is loving it. Oikawa slightly turns his head and immediately found Iwaizumi’s face in line with his. They shared a glance.

“Hajime.”

 _Oh, this is new._  Iwaizumi thought the first thing Oikawa would do is push him away. That’s how he always react to post-coital activities.

“I’m here.”

If a national crisis is what it takes to get the great Oikawa Tooru desperate for affection, then so be it.

“Sorry for earlier,” Oikawa says, his voice rather hoarse.

_What, for asking to be done thoroughly until you can’t remember your name? Never apologize for that._

“It’s fine,” Iwaizumi says instead. He leans in to peck the bridge of Oikawa’s nose. “How do you feel?”

“Well taken care of,” Oikawa answers with a cheeky grin, although his eyes slightly flutters to stay properly awake.

“Should I get you something to eat?” Iwaizumi offers.

“What drove you to that conclusion?”

“Your stomach was grumbling while you were asleep.”

_And we both know you never sleep after sex._

“It’s probably because you came inside me.”

“That’s not how human anatomy works, you idiot.” Instead of a back pat or eyes rolling in annoyance, Iwaizumi pecked the back of Oikawa’s neck. His hands rest on Oikawa’s abdomen, fingers tracing his tones muscles and gently running around his navel. Iwaizumi would have continued if OIkawa hadn’t flip aside and lies on his back. Iwaizumi’s face is now in line with Oikawa’s cheek, which he of course peppers with kisses. Oikawa then places his hand on Iwaizumi’s that’s resting on his stomach, feeling the hands that would either hold him up, keeps him down or touch his skin. Iwaizumi has his leg intertwined with Oikawa’s as they share warmth and abolish the space between them. He subtly moves his leg to rub against Oikawa’s, not erotically but rather caring, tender and loving.

_This definitely is new._

“Did something happen?” Iwaizumi finally decides to ask.

“What gave it away?” Oikawa laughs.

_You never let me hold you like this before._

“You were desperate,” Iwaizumi said instead. That’s not entirely a lie. Their meetings usually begin with Oikawa in his high horse, chin held up and oozing with pride and Iwaizumi takes pleasure in slowly, thoroughly working him into a mess.

“It’s work,” Oikawa mutters. And Iwaizumi is surprised as he didn’t thought Oikawa would open up. “An old case of mine is reopened.”

“Oh,” Iwaitumi notes. “And that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s the worst,” Oikawa says. He turns to hide his face in Iwaizumi’s hold, “How would you feel if a patient from your autopsy table three years ago suddenly decides to climb out of its grave?”

“I’d probably lose my medical license, credibility as a doctor, sanity and will to live,” Iwaizumi answers in honesty. Oikawa takes a heavy breath and it pushed Iwaizumi to squeeze him a bit tighter into his hug, “I’m so sorry, it must have been hard on you.”

Oikawa hums an answer and starts drawing imaginary circles on Iwaizumi’s arm.

“Have you ever considered it being a trap? As in someone deliberately trying to tear down your credibility,” Iwaizumi offered a piece of his mind. However, Oikawa responded with a laugh.

“Why would anyone do that to me? I’m innocent,” Oikawa exaggerates his answer. “Oh wait, actually I’m not. In fact, I’m in at least three crime organization’s kill-at-sight list. I’m still not the record holder though, there’s this counter-terrorism agent who is in five—that’s insane. I call him Mad Dog by the way.”

“That’s not funny, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says under his breath.

“Spare me some slack, I’m frustrated here,” Oikawa almost whined. He turns to look into Iwaizumi, “On a serious note, our analysts are looking into that possibility.”

Iwaizumi sighed, that answer is not enough. “If you’re ever in trouble, you’ll let me know, right?”

Oikawa laughs his trademark laugh. “If I were, you would know immediately since you live in this country’s national crisis management center.”

Iwaizumi sweeps a rouge hair strand away from Oikawa’s face. This is rare, having Oikawa Tooru deliberately staying for small talks after sex is rare. With that in mind, Iwaizumi sets his brain to memorize the whole of it. The only source of light came from the table lamp on Iwaizumi’s desk, but that’s just enough to emphasize the curves and lines of Oikawa’s feature. Iwaizumi’s hands gently explores his body, and even though he’s already touched every inch of Oikawa that’s possible to touch, Iwaizumi loves doing it when they’re not under the influence of lust.

“Hey, can I kiss you?” Oikawa asked.

_Who are you and what have you done to Oikawa._

“Of course.”

Oikawa closes in and capture Iwaizumi’s lips with his. Although Oikawa has his eyes closed as he nips, tugs, bites and goes on with the kiss, Iwaizumi lets a crack of his eye lids open to capture the breathtaking sight. Iwaizumi doesn’t want to let the moment slip away because who knows, the next time Oikawa shows up there’s no saying how he’ll be. Perhaps as loving as today, or as blunt as last time. It’s not healthy, Iwaizumi admits, but some drugs are worth the while. He doesn’t know how much longer he can keep doing this, but until he finds out, he’ll keep gathering every bits and pieces of Oikawa he can get.

“Did I ever tell you that you’re an amazing kisser?” Oikawa asks as he pulls away.

“You may mention it more often.”

Oikawa chuckles at the response. Just then, Iwaizumi’s phone buzzed to life. Oikawa didn’t say, but he’s a bit irritated when Iwaizumi sits up to reach it.

“It’s my bodyguard,” Iwaizumi said after a while, somehow sensing the distaste.

“What, you still have one?”

“As if I’m allowed without one,” Iwaizumi scoffs.

Oikawa laughs. “True. I just though they’re going to try letting you off the hook after that stunt you pulled earlier this year.”

“Well, at least this time I got someone around my age. So you can be friends, my father said,” Iwaizumi puts his phone aside and slides back into the heap of blankets and Oikawa’s hold. “We made a deal that I’m going to report to him every few hours when in the Kantei residence and at the hospital in exchange for trackers.”

“But you still wear one when out in public?” Oikawa asks. Iwaizumi nods an answer. “Well damn, there goes my plan to keep you in my basement.”

With them lying side by side under the same blanket, it was effortless to have their foreheads touching and dragging them both into another ambiguously affectionate gesture.

“You’re a Koanchosa agent. I’m sure you can figure something out.”

Oikawa chuckles, “Do you hate your life so much that you’d rather live in my basement than in Kantei residence?”

_I don’t hate my life, I hate not being able to spend time with you._

“Yeah well, no amount of mind blowing sex is ever worth betraying my country,” Oikawa adds. “So that bodyguard of yours... he’s at our age, huh. Is he hot? Is he single? Can I see him?”

“Not my type. Never asked. And no, you can’t.”

“Come on, Iwa-chan, I’m trying to make a decent conversation here. Distract me from my tedious work!” Oikawa tugs the blanket. Yes, that much is clear. Once Oikawa leaves the room he’s back to being a Koanchosa agent, which means dealing with the case again.

“Fine, fine, alright,” Iwaizumi considers what to say. “I think he’s sleeping with one of Kantei’s executive assistants.”

“Blackmailing material,” Oikawa chirps, pleased. “Which one? Aren’t they all at least middle aged? Oh, hang on, there’s one that’s ridiculously young to be a Kantei exec though—”

“Yeah, that one,” Iwaizumi confirms. “He’s not _that_ young, he just looks like it. In fact, he’s our age too.”

The giddy smile on Oikawa’s face disappeared, though Iwaizumi didn’t notice.

“Sugawara Koushi.”

“Right.” The mention of a name made Iwaizumi turn to face Oikawa, only to find an unamused frown in his face.

“And your bodyguard is...?”

“Daichi—”

“Sawamura,” Oikawa finished the answer. He groaned and used a pillow to cover his face. Only muffles were heard as Oikawa said, “What the hell Iwa-chan, I asked you to distract me, not remind me of work.”

“Wait,” Iwaizumi slightly sits up. “Wait, does that mean—?”

“Yes, I know Sugawara. He’s the government rep for Koanchosa,” Oikawa made himself clear. He throws the pillow aside, the frown still evident. Of course, he came to Iwaizumi to forget about work but he got the exact opposite. “Why are you surprised? At this point you should expect me to know a handful of upper level players in the government.”

“No no, I mean, does that mean Daichi is—”

“Oh him,” Oikawa’s expression softened. “Yeah, I’ve always wondered what he’s been up to.”

That didn’t answer Iwaizumi’s curiosity. Thankfully, Oikawa confirmed, “Sawamura is ex-Koanchosa. We were even recruited in the same year.”

Iwaizumi blinks a couple times. He would say that it’s unexpected but then again, it was his fault for not noticing the hints Suga once threw in his face.

“What happened?” Iwaizumi dared to ask.

Cover blown up. Mission went terribly wrong. Witness protection program. Career-ending injury. Memory loss and he doesn’t even remember being a Koanchosa agent. Of the many dramatic possible scenarios that went through Iwaizumi’s mind, Oikawa’s answer is not at all as he expected.

“Sugawara Koushi happened.” Oikawa too shifts to his side, now face to face with Iwaizumi as he continues, “Love is a force to be reckoned with.”

That’s a story Iwaizumi hopes to hear in full detail. Though preferably not from Oikawa, as he tends to react allergic to the L-word. Maybe from Suga since he doesn’t seem to mind or perhaps from Daichi himself.

“If Sawamura didn’t resign a year ago, I’d probably have 50 percent less stress than I do now,” Oikawa groaned remembering the counter-terrorism agent backing up his current case. “I work exclusively alone but once in a while my cases require support from the other division. There used to be three counter-terrorism agents I trust. However last year one got transferred to the commanding line, Sawamura resigned, and the other, unfortunately the loudest of all three, is the only one with enough experience to assist my current case.”

“You agents are allowed to resign?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Yes and no,” Oikawa said, surprisingly without sarcasm in his voice. “Administratively speaking, yes. Although in practice, there’s no stopping. There are some things that can’t be forgotten, some skills that can’t be unlearned, and some situations that will permanently change who you are as a person. Each agent is unique, for none of us work on the exact same case. And over the years, the information trusted to us accumulate. In some ways, we’re Koanchosa archives in human form. Being an agent means being a nation asset and treated as such. The agency keep tabs on their former agents. In case of a dire emergency they may be put back into the scene temporarily, or in very unfortunate cases, a third party is after the information they possess. Like I said, nation asset.”

Iwaizumi doesn’t know how to react after hearing such things. Luckily, Oikawa too wants to avoid awkward silence.

“On an extra note regarding Sawamura, he was in counter-terrorism. I believe they have more freedom when it comes to retiring compared to us in national security,” Oikawa says. “I personally think Sawamura would eventually resign from Koanchosa. Meeting Sugawara only made that decision come sooner. How should I say this, um... Sawamura is too nice to be in Koanchosa.”

“What, you’re saying you’re bad enough to stay?”

“Oh dear innocent Hajime,” Oikawa teased, his side-smile present. “I’m the worst.”

Although Oikawa’s occupation is one of the biggest factors hindering their relationship (Iwaizumi’s father as prime minister being the other), it is still a side of Oikawa that Iwaizumi came to love. Iwaizumi always thought that it’s in an agent’s nature to walk with their chin held up high, intimidating their enemies yet giving their allies an undeniable sense of security. Turns out, that’s more of how Oikawa is as a person. Daichi gives a slightly different vibe, although still going in the same direction as Oikawa, now that Iwaizumi is given the chance to compare. And realizing this only drew Iwaizumi to admire Oikawa even more.

“Okay, this is depressing. Don’t make me regret coming here,” Oikawa gets up. He pushes Iwaizumi down and climbs on top of him. Both his knees press onto the bed, keeping Iwaizumi exactly where Oikawa wants him. “A final round before I dissolve into the night?”

“As long as you do the work.”

“Mean, Iwa-chan.”

But Oikawa complies anyways, and Iwaizumi gave regardless.

 

**20 hours earlier**

It’s final. Their case have reached a dead end, one that cannot and should not happen.

Kageyama has been staring at the open files for at least an hour now and without significant improvement. Oikawa has taken the afternoon off to cool down and Bokuto is away to tend his own work, leaving Kageyama to decide on a move on his own. Well, Kuroo did say this is still his case regardless who’s on board, he just wished there wasn’t too much at sake. Oikawa’s target from three years ago was a prosecutor involved in illegal document trade. He was taken out of the picture, swiftly and smoothly, it was a normal Thursday at work for Oikawa. That is, until Kageyama’s case investigation trace back to the very same man—dead man, credited as the puppeteer behind recent security breech. It’s a relatively simple task for a junior national-security agent, but by doing so, Kageyama would damage Oikawa’s credibility along the way. Though they teamed up to take that target down, in reality it felt like they’re trying to rip each others’ throat out. Sure, at the end of the day they share the same goal, to eliminate the threat, but it’s only natural for them to wish that the fault is in the other party. Unfortunately, their investigation so far only emphasize that both Oikawa and Kageyama’s conclusion are rock solid.

And they can’t both be right.

“Kageyama-kun.”

There is a knock on the door and Kageyama immediately sits up straight. “Yes!” He turns to face his visitor.

It’s Nishinoya, the lead specialist in mission control. He sticks his head through the door, his tuft of dirty blonde hair came to vision. Kageyama would have stood to greet his senior, but Nishinoya wasted no time and approached the mess that is his desk.

“I haven’t came up with a solution yet—”

“Good,” Nishinoya unexpectedly said, which came as a surprise because Kageyama has been pressured by his commanding officers for a while now. “Something came up.”

Nishinoya shows the extra files be had in his hands. “They’re making a move. 20 hours from now, they’re arranging an exchange and we have reasons to believe that your zombie will be there.”

Despite not being directly on the field, Nishinoya is his own level of proficiency and questioning his work is redundant. Kageyama immediately dwells into the new lead, feeling his heart pace faster with the turn of events.

“Does this mean,” Kageyama unconsciously paused. “Oikawa-san didn’t kill him after all?”

“Or he miraculously survived two shots to the head and a fall to the ocean from Yokohama Bay,” Nishinoya subtly stood up for Oikawa. “You saw the complete report. The only weak link from Oikawa’s side is that the target’s body was never retrieved. And the weak link from your side is that the man was never seen in person, only through security cameras and fingerprint scans.”

“I know,” Kageyama said under his breath. “I know that already. What I don’t know is—”

“Which one of you is right,” Nishinoya cuts off. “And that is exactly why I’m here. I’m telling you that we have a shot at uncovering this. It’s a bit of a stretch and we have less than a day to go through mission details, but it is the only shot we have. I’ll give you some time to consider—”

“I’ll take it,” Kageyama says immediately and without hesitation. “I’ll take whatever snowball’s chance in hell we’ve got.”

 

****15 hours earlier** **

Iwaizumi can’t look at Daichi the same way again. Not literally, because he’s been stealing glances every once in a while to the point that it made Daichi feel uncomfortable, but rather Oikawa’s words put Daichi under a whole different light. If they met under different circumstances he’d never guessed the man is a field agent. Oh wait, maybe that’s the point of being a field agent. Iwaizumi wouldn’t have guessed Oikawa’s job if he wasn’t told either.

“For the last time Iwaizumi-san,” Daichi takes a deep breath. “Stop staring at me.”

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi says quickly and looks away to the window. “Sorry, something’s on my mind.”

“Yes, something’s on your mind and not on my face. So let us keep it that way, yeah?” Daichi hits the gas right when the traffic lights turn green.

Iwaizumi thought of what Suga said, Daichi would be glad to help regarding domestic and foreign affairs, and wonders if he should try asking now.

“About the dinner tonight,” Daichi was faster to break awkward silence though. “It’s at the Kantei residence. So there’s no need to arrive early for security measures.”

Iwaizumi hums an affirmation. “Sugawara is coming, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, all executive assistants will be there.”

“Great, at least I know there’s someone I can talk to,” Iwaizumi leans back to his seat.

“There’s plenty of people you can talk to,” Daichi said.

“Suga’s the only one capable of making a non-politic conversation though,” Iwaizumi says. “Besides, you’re just saying that because you don’t want me to hog his attention the whole evening.”

“With all due respect Iwaizumi-san, shut up.”

Ah, yes, Daichi is _definitely_ a former Koanchosa agent. Until now only those elite officers dare to use crude words with the prime minister’s son, Oikawa and that cat-like Koanchosa commander being the only other ones that have made that accomplishment.

“Is it really fine to have a twelve hour shift?” Daichi asked as an effort to change the topic.

“That’s the usual medical workload, we talked this through already.”

“I mean before a formal event,” Daichi elaborated more. “You won’t get any rest until tomorrow at least.”

And Oikawa is also right about Daichi being too nice.

“I can’t back out because of that,” Iwaizumi protested. He’s had enough of people thinking he got it easy because of his father’s influence. “Besides it’s just a diplomatic dinner, right? Smile and wave, I know the drill.”

“If you say so,” Daichi sighed and took a right turn to the last block before reaching Iwaizumi’s hospital.

“Speaking of Sugawara, how did you two first meet?” Iwaizumi started slowly. “If you don’t mind me asking”

Daichi’s eyes slightly widen. He must have not expected that question, but he answers regardless, “At a bar.”

Now is Iwaizumi’s turn to react in surprise. Daichi caught the reaction. “What were you expecting?”

“A cheesy superhero story, obviously. Especially regarding your career history and what Sugawara-san is doing now,” Iwaizumi tried to wrap it as a joke. Iwaizumi was told that Daichi was in the military before making a change, perhaps that was before he joined Koanchosa. And Sugawara has always worked for the government, even before he was transferred to Kantei.

“Let’s just say, I saved his life and he saved my soul,” Daichi elaborated. They reached the hospital parking lot and Daichi pulled to the side. He has a small smile on his face, probably thinking of Suga, and continued, “We can talk about it at the dinner if you’re curious.”

Iwaizumi collects his belongings before preparing to exit, “I’m not interested in other people’s love life while I’m having problems with my own.”

“You’re lucky I’m not gossipy,” Daichi notes as Iwaizumi steps out of the car. “I’ll be back at the end of your shift, don’t leave the hospital ground without me.”

Iwaizumi answers with a tired _hmm_ and a slam of the car door.

 

**5 hours earlier**

Breath of fresh air in human form, that’s how the agents used to refer Sugawara Koushi as. He’s easy on the eyes, easy on the soul and he makes nasty paperwork go smoothly. He still is, for the agents at least. For Kuroo and anyone in the commanding line, he’s a slightly different story. Government reps were never really liked as they’re always the first to pressure them in the name of Kantei. Suga still fits that profile, it’s his job after all, but for the first time in a long while, Koanchosa has a government rep that understands the complexity of their cases.

“Thank you again for your help, Sugawara-san!” Kageyama offered a respectful bow as he said those words.

Sugawara looks startled at the gesture. He nods and chuckles before turning to Kuroo, “You’re right, the younger agents are adorable.”

Although adorable is never a proper word to describe anyone with special training in combat.

“Give them time, a few missions will shape them into the typical nerve-wrecking and patience-testing agents we have in either divisions,” Kuroo said. He points Oikawa from afar, “Exhibit A.”

And calling out Oikawa at this timing is unfair. Sure Oikawa is not the nicest person in Koanchosa, but considering the crap he’s been put through, it’s a miracle he hasn’t murdered anyone in cold blood.

“You have everything under control?” Kuroo turns back to Kageyama.

“Yes, Kuroo-san. Oikawa-san and I are wrapping up final adjustments and Nishinoya-san is already on the move.”

“He’s always one step ahead,” Suga commented.

Kuroo goes through their mission details once again. It’s mainly recon. They’re gathering proof and information regarding the players in their case. If it is indeed Oikawa’s target from three years ago, it will be bad news for Oikawa but relatively good for Koanchosa. They know the man, his motive, his game strategy and the only thing they need to figure out is how to eliminate him for good. If it’s not, it’ll be the start of a tiring week for Koanchosa, a bad start for Kageyama’s track record and a so-so end result for Oikawa. Yes his credibility as an agent remains untouched, but without doubt he will be tasked to mentor Kageyama through this case as he is the only person with this kind of experience. And Oikawa wouldn’t be all too pleased to help anyone who almost toppled his integrity and well-earned pride.

“Listen, whatever you find out there, remember that this is not an ordinary case. Under different circumstances I wouldn’t let a junior agent handle this.”

“That’s right. Kuroo got plenty of trouble when the board of directors found out,” Suga adds.

“I want you to focus on the main goal: identify the threat. Remember that whoever is behind this, be it Oikawa’s zombie or someone using it to mess with us, is believed to be responsible for recent data theft within our government. Without knowing who we are dealing with, we cannot set a game plan to eliminate that threat.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Also, one last thing,” Kuroo dusts the padding of his suit before taking his coat from Sugawara’s hold. “I know Oikawa has been giving you a hard time, but please understand that this is especially difficult for him.”

Kuroo lowered his voice as he said those words. Suga slightly turns to Oikawa and he’s relieved seeing the mentioned agent still focused on his mission prep.

“What’s your take on the case, Kuroo-san?” Kageyama dared himself to ask.

Kuroo stopped his steps before fully exiting and turns to Kageyama, “My gut feeling is telling me that someone is using you to frame him.”

Kuroo then leaves the room to attend other matters at Kantei official residence. Suga paces his steps until they’re walking alongside. Without sharing a glance, Suga said, “I sincerely hope that’s the case. Otherwise it’ll be a pain to clarify with the prime minister.”

 

 ****3** ** ****hours earlier** **

“You’ve gotten faster,” Oikawa comments in the midst of their escape. He leads the way through the maze-like back alleys of Tokyo. “Who’ve you been training with?”

“The idiot from counter-terrorism,” Kageyama answers. He leaps over a poorly placed wooden crate in the alley they sought refuge at while maintaining a conversation.

“They’re all idiots, be specific.”

“The incredibly idiotic one,” Kageyama emphasized. “Short, bright orange hair, annoying laugh, freakish jump. Bokuto-san’s mentee.”

“Oh, that chibi-chan. Yeah I’ve seen him,” Oikawa notes. “I suppose I won’t have to worry about bruising during training practice anymore, now that you’ve learned a thing or two about hand combat.”

 _I’ve apologized a million times already_ —but Kageyama wasn’t given the chance to voice his protest. They reached a dead end, the path they followed is blocked by a barb-wired fence. Oikawa lets out a __tsk__. He knows these alleys like the back of his hand. This is his means of escape, the shadows he uses to stay hidden. Being chased in his own playing field felt humiliating.

“That’s the third blockage,” Kageyama mutters originally to himself but it was heard by Oikawa regardless.

“There’s still another exit I can think of, but it’s on the far side of this area,” Oikawa looks around for alternatives. Upon realizing there is none, he prepares his weapon in case the enemy caught up. “Update Noya-san and keep him on the line until we reach checkpoint one.”

Kageyama doesn’t need to be told twice.

 

****2 hours earlier** **

Their exit was blocked yet again. However this time, neither Oikawa nor Kageyama were given the chance to calculate their next move. The enemy is closing in on them. But who they are, what they want, which organization they belong to is still a blur. They know at least three things for certain now: 1) Oikawa’s target from three years ago really is eliminated and he is not the one organizing this mess, 2) whoever did went through great lengths to make Kageyama and the Koanchosa analysts involved believed otherwise, and 3) they need to return to headquarters—but the enemy isn’t making it easy for them.

“Left, Oikawa-san!”

Oikawa turned swiftly, sets his aim that is too graceful for a kill and pulls the trigger. He made it look as easy as breathing. Oikawa’s a step behind Kageyama now, though it’s actually a good way for them to cover all possible angles. Kageyama takes a turn and Oikawa follows. Without information how many are chasing them, all they could do is make a run for it.

“Noya-san—” Oikawa hissed in between his panting breath. “We’re going for the nearest north-eastern checkpoint. Extraction assistance would be appreciated.”

“I’m on it, I’m on it.” Nishinoya’s voice stormed from their coms.

“Duck!” Kageyama didn’t wait for Oikawa to react. Instead, he pulls Oikawa by his upper arm and shoves him away. Kageyama shoots up. One, two, three times and within the following second they heard heavy thuds echoing the otherwise silent alley.

 _Why didn’t I see that coming_ , Oikawa wonders genuinely. He admits, he is far from perfect. He does have blind spots and Kageyama really is a promising agent himself. But the number of times attacks come from directions Oikawa least expected is suspicious.

“Lead the way. Take the front and right side, I’ll cover the back and left.” Oikawa’s already a step behind from dodging the ambush, but he can easily reclaim the lead if he wanted to. No, there is something Oikawa needed to figure out and he can’t do that while planning their escape.

Kageyama gave an affirmative answer and runs forward with Oikawa following. There is something off about this mission. Oikawa’s been through plenty of last-minute missions with nasty surprises but this, what they have now, seems too well-conducted to be mere bad luck. The escape routes they’ve been trying to reach were all Oikawa’s. The attacks mostly came from Oikawa’s blind spots, which for once in his career Oikawa is grateful he has an on-site partner to cover. The dummy they used as bait was Oikawa’s old target. And the junior agent who was lured into the scheme was Oikawa’s protege.

“Kageyama,” Oikawa called with his voice grim. “They’re prepared for this.”

“What?” Kageyama asked a bit too loud.

“They know it’s going to be us, which is why they got every exit covered and saw through our blind spots,” Oikawa said loud enough to match his raging breath.

“No—no, we didn’t even thought about doing ground search until a couple hours ago!”

“Think about it!” Oikawa is starting to lose patience, or maybe pushed too far from his comfort zone. “Think about it very carefully and I dare you to tell me I’m wrong.”

Within the next second they faced another enemy. This time, Oikawa came prepared. He reacted accordingly and took the man down, but not without difficulties. It was a frontal attack using hand knives. The enemy kicked Oikawa’s gun off his hands, although luckily, Oikawa already thought of that possibility. Hand-in-hand combat is not Oikawa’s virtue. He’s a long-range fighter, he attacks from the dark, and Kageyama knows that well. Seeing how the enemy approached them and with a fighting style that’s exactly Oikawa’s weakness, the senior agent’s words made perfect sense.

“We need to get back to headquarters,” Kageyama said in haste.

“Yes, tell me something I don’t know, Tobio.”

 

****1 hour earlier** **

Kageyama made it back to headquarters, alone. He and Oikawa were separated in the midst of escape. Kageyama insisted to get to mission controls immediately, but instead, he was immediately brought to the infirmary following a wide puncture wound on the base of his neck.

“What the hell happened?!” Nishinoya screams, either to beat the chaos that is a national security mission falling apart, or from frustration.

A paramedic pushed through the crowd, Nishinoya included, as he goes quickly to tend Kageyama’s open wounds. Kageyama yelled in pain as the paramedic started cleaning the wound. He wasn’t given a chance to catch his breath as the medical team continued stitching the wound.

“He’s good to go,” one of them announced.

“What is going on?” Nishinoya had to battle the hectic situation around him.

“They knew—we were coming,” Kageyama says in between his harsh breaths. He hissed as a paramedic wraps his upper arm tightly with a bandage.

“Impossible!” Nishinoya exclaims. “This is a mission regarding national security, priority zero. Only a handful of agents know of this.”

“I’m one of them!” Bokuto announced his arrival in an out-of-place cheerful tone. “Brief me, how bad did pretty boy mess up?”

Nishinoya rolled his eyes, “Neither of them messed up. We might as well have a security breech—”

“Is no one listening to me?!” Kageyama angrily yells. His sentence is interrupted with a painful cry as a paramedic pops his dislocated shoulder. “I said they _knew_ we were coming, Noya-san. They _knew_ it would be Oikawa and me.”

“Well fudge,” Bokuto breaths out. Putting puzzle pieces with very little information has always been Bokuto’s strength. Hearing enough, Bokuto hurries to mission controls to get a head start.

“Not only they expected us to be at the field. Everything we do, they dodge. Every escape route we took, they covered,” Kageyama continued rather breathless. “It is as if they’ve planned the whole thing—we walked straight into their trap! They must be—”

“After something,” Nishinoya finished Kageyama’s sentence as he dashes out of the infirmary, finally getting a clearer picture.

 

 ****45 minutes** ** ****earlier** **

“Iwaizumi-san!” Daichi’s voice stormed through the phone before Iwaizumi is given the chance to say anything. “There is an issue at Kantei residence, I can’t make it to the hospital. Please stay there until the situation is cleared.”

Iwaizumi probably should have asked about the scheduled dinner, but he’d rather be anywhere than in a diplomatic event. “Alright. I’ll stay at the cafeteria and get some paperwork done.”

“Yes, please do that.” Daichi sounds rushed, like there is something else requiring his immediate attention. “Do not leave the hospital ground, you hear me?”

Ah yes, there are extra security measures surrounding the hospital. Iwaizumi thinks its exaggerated—his father is the prime minister, not him—but if that means he can drop the trackers while doing his work, then it’s a good deal.

“And if anything happens report to me immediately,” Daichi emphasized. “ _Immediately_. Understand? I’m supposed to be with you in times like this, but Kantei’s on emergency lock down and I’m needed here for the time being.”

The Kantei residence being on lock down is nothing new, but to the point that the guard solely responsible for his safety is needed elsewhere at times like this says a lot about the urgency of the situation.

“I understand,” Iwaizumi gave his affirmative answer. Whatever is happening in Kantei it must be Koanchosa-related, why else would they hold one of their former agents there?

 

****Present time** **

It was supposed to be a quick detour back to the morgue. Iwaizumi had left his laptop and paperwork at a corner of the hospital’s 24h cafeteria to fetch his phone charger from his desk in the morgue. Instead, Iwaizumi found himself running as fast as his tired feet can carry him to the nearest defibrillator available—the morgue doesn’t have one, anybody ending in the morgue is beyond saving.

Iwaizumi found one by the back exit. He grits his teeth as he ran across the empty hallway. The morgue door is heavy but Iwaizumi kicked it open regardless. He stepped on the puddle of Oikawa’s blood upon entering and it will definitely be a pain to clean, but that’s another issue for later.

 _Clear_ , Iwaizumi mentally notes. Oikawa’s body jolts up at the shock. Without an electrocardiogram Iwaizumi can’t precisely say how effective it was. He could install one, but does he have the time?

“There is a reason medical emergencies are handled in teams!” Iwaizumi exclaims in frustration as he preps the defibrillator again, “Clear!”

No response.

“Don’t you dare die on me!” Iwaizumi yells as he charges the defibrillator.

Still nothing.

“You better respond, you asshole, clear!”

Finally, Oikawa is showing signs of life.

Oikawa groans in pain. Out of reflects he tackles Iwaizumi’s helping hand.

“Holy shit even at the brink of dying you’re this strong,” Iwaizumi grunts as Oikawa’s flailing hands smack him in the face. It didn’t last long though. Within the next second Oikawa succumbs to the pain again. He tried to grasp his open wound, but there is only very little he can do at this state.

Iwaizumi kicks the defibrillator aside and frantically reaches for a heart rate monitor. Before the machine properly starts, Iwaizumi has already jumped to his next task—he is far from finished. With some effort Iwaizumi got Oikawa up an autopsy table. The monitor shows Oikawa’s beating heart, Iwaizumi needs keep Oikawa’s heart beating in a certain rhythm. Oikawa mutters inaudible words. His eyes roll back and he slowly slips out of consciousness again. Iwaizumi puts on a rubber glove and flicks the lights on. He snips Oikawa’s blood soaked shirt and immediately gets a better look of his wound.

“How are you even up and running,” Iwaizumi mutters.

Without a mask the only thing Iwaizumi can smell is blood. Despite that, Iwaizumi takes a deep breath before continuing with his work.

 

****15 minutes later** **

“Last communication with Agent Oikawa Tooru is recorded from 90 minutes ago,” an analyst reported as she chased Nishinoya out of the infirmary.

Oikawa’s old mission is brought up to cause a stir, probably in order to mess with Koanchosa’s focus while they execute whatever plan they had in mind. Kageyama’s case has always been about illegal document trade. Pulling a line between them, it’s safe to say that the enemy’s motive, for now, is also extracting confidential information. But what of? And from which archive?

Nishinoya barely responded. His fingers tapped the communication device in his hand as he literally shoves anyone in his way back to mission control.

“Alert the ministry and brief Sugawara-san, they have to know our situation,” Nishinoya orders a random analyst the exact moment he enters mission controls.

“Patch me to Kuroo.”

“He’s in the Kantei residence—”

“Did I stutter?” Nishinoya sounds extremely rude under pressure. “I said patch me to Kuroo.”

“I’ll do it,” Bokuto relieved the poor analyst of the order. “I can’t pick up their traces, by the way. Those guys know what they’re doing. This definitely is a national security issue.”

“Kageyama claimed that they were ambushed. Work on that,” Nishinoya informs the room. His eyes never leaving the monitors in front of him.

“Oikawa-san’s tracker is still inactive,” a staff member reports.

“And Kuroo’s call is pending,” Bokuto adds right after a low curse. He restarts the connection with one hand and goes through activity logs with the other.

“Security surrounding our archives has been increased and Kantei is informed of the situation. They have someone on standby,” an analyst reports loud enough for the whole control room to hear, which is incredible taking the amount of chaos currently going on.

“If they were after Kantei or Koanchosa’s archives, they could have gotten access through either one of us,” Kageyama storms into mission controls. Behind him is a paramedic trying to patch the torn skin at the base of his neck. Kageyama immediately blends into the commotion as if blood isn’t staining the front of his shirt. “During the chase I felt that they were accustomed to Oikawa-san’s moves better than mine, meaning they’ve studied his style well enough to use it against him. They also held back when confronting him but don’t hesitate to kill me given the chance.”

The mission control deck felt still for a spare second.

“What are you trying to say,” Nishinoya voices eerily slow.

Instead of replying, Kageyama lets out a frustrated yell and slams both hands onto the table.

“What Kageyama’s trying to say is, those people are after Oikawa  _specifically_. They’ve probably been targeting pretty boy all along while grumpy here was bait,” Bokuto said from his side of mission controls. He hangs up his call and spins his chair to face both Kageyama and Nishinoya. “And he’s frustrated because he didn’t realize soon enough.”

Kageyama’s red face is enough to confirm Bokuto’s words. Bokuto pats Kageyama’s shoulder as he leaves his station and approach Nishinoya’s place.

“What do they want?” Nishinoya asked. 

“Obviously something only Oikawa knows or able to do,” Bokuto said. “Although that doesn’t eliminate the threat to our nor Kantei’s archives yet.”

“That’s helpful,” Nishinoya rolls his eyes. “It’ll take days for anyone of us to make sense of Oikawa’s past missions—and not to mention the amount of it.”

Kageyama steps closer. “Or maybe just a few hours.”

Nishinoya throws a rather sceptical stare.

“Oikawa-san mentored me, remember? Sure, we don’t have partners in national security but if anyone knows his work the best it would be me,” Kageyama says confidently. “To identify our opponent we need to find out what they’re after and our only chance to do that is to go back through Oikawa-san’s past missions. I’m your best shot.”

Bokuto impolitely points his index finger to the youngest agent in the room. “I like him better than pretty boy. Equally smart but without the sass.”

“You’re just salty because Kuroo works more with Oikawa lately,” Nishinoya says as he starts accessing mission logs. He points an empty chair with his head and signals Kageyama to take it. “Here Tobio, focus on the cases with confidential documents involved. Judging from our enemy’s history, they most likely aimed for information but breaking through our archives is too difficult so they’re looking for alternative ways to obtain it. You sort this out, Bokuto and I will trace down Oikawa.”

“And fast,” Kageyama adds. “I believe Oikawa-san is injured.”

 

**40 Minutes Later**

Iwaizumi isn’t used to rushing work. He’s not stationed in an emergency room where every second counts, neither is he responsible for ICU patients who often crash and needs to be stabilized within a matter of minutes. Iwaizumi works in the morgue with dead bodies, mostly doing autopsies and everyone in his work field know those things take weeks to complete.

After convincing himself for the umpteenth time that Oikawa is stable, Iwaizumi drops his exhausted body onto a chair. He felt droplets of sweat rolling down the side of his face and he simply wipes it with the sleeve of his white coat. The constant beeping of the heart rate monitor is like music to Iwaizumi’s ears. It’s weak, but at least it’s not rapid like it was earlier. Oikawa is breathing properly which is a relief. Perhaps the initial crisis really has passed.

The right thing to do is to call another doctor, preferably a trauma surgeon, to properly and thoroughly handle Oikawa’s wounds. The smart thing to do is not to, not with Oikawa’s background. Assault wounds must be reported to authorities and Iwaizumi is certain Oikawa would do anything to stay below radar.

Following a heavy sigh, Iwaizumi turns his face back towards Oikawa. He is alive, the heart rate monitor confirms it, but from where Iwaizumi is sitting Oikawa looks no different than the dead bodies he works with. Oikawa lies unconscious in an autopsy table. It must be cold and uncomfortable, but the morgue isn’t equipped for live patients to begin with. Oikawa’s face is pale. His breath is ever so soft as if he isn’t at all breathing. His torso and upper abdomen tainted with blood stains. Emergency stitches visible around his wound, just barely enough to keep him in one piece. Even though Iwaizumi knows that Oikawa is alive, it looks like he isn’t—he looks like another lifeless body waiting for an autopsy.

And seeing Oikawa like that frightens Iwaizumi.

 

**80 minutes later**

At first Iwaizumi thought he was just imagining things. On second look he is certain that Oikawa had slightly open his eyes.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says under his breath. He stands from his seat and rushes to Oikawa’s side. Iwaizumi vigorously checks Oikawa’s pulse, his eye movement, and lastly the blood transfusion Iwaizumi installed earlier. Oikawa blinks in response. His eyes show exhaustion, confusion but of all relief. Oikawa barely reacts as Iwaizumi places a cold stethoscope in various points across his chest. Then he checks Oikawa’s blood pressure. Iwaizumi’s face show nothing but concentration. Only after finishing his responsibilities as a medical personal Iwaizumi lets the emotional side of him take over.

“Oh thank goodness.”

Iwaizumi’s knees felt weak. He drops down with his upper body leaning to the autopsy table, his head right beside Oikawa’s. Iwaizumi’s hands treble, they were perfectly stable earlier while doing emergency treatment. Oikawa turns his face aside with great effort.

“I thought I lost you,” Iwaizumi says in whisper. Oikawa didn’t exactly hear Iwaizumi’s words but he can read Iwaizumi’s lips.

“I thought—” Iwaizumi choked on his own words. He can’t even stand the idea of Oikawa dying under his watch. Oikawa felt his body heavier than ever, as if gravity is doubling its effort on him. Despite most of his body numb, Oikawa felt Iwaizumi’s cold fingertips brushing strands of hair away from covering his eyes. He felt the tenderness of his touch, the affection. He felt Iwaizumi running his fingers down the side of his jawline, carefully cupping his cheek. He felt Iwaizumi holding him, firmly yet gentle as if Oikawa would crumble at any false move. Then, Oikawa felt Iwaizumi’s lips aganst his own.

It was a desperate act, Oikawa can tell by the way Iwaizumi immediately pulls back after coming to his senses. However, Iwaizumi maintains the minimum distance between them. The tip of their nose occasionally brush in contact as Iwaizumi tries to control his shivering hands. Oikawa may be physically battered, but Iwaizumi is emotionally wrecked. Oikawa wants to reach for Iwaizumi, calm him—feel his existence under his fingers, but his arms hurt too much. Oikawa takes his best effort to lean closer towards Iwaizumi and kiss him back.

It took Iwaizumi by surprise. He might as well froze with a dumb look on his face while this gorgeous, dying man is using all his might to land him a proper kiss. Iwaizumi responds by running his hand along the side of Oikawa’s face while the other rakes through his hair, hoping it will soothe him. Iwaizumi felt the heaviness of Oikawa’s breath while Oikawa noticed the unfamiliar shock preoccupying Iwaizumi’s nerves. For a moment there nothing else matters. Iwaizumi’s hand finally stop trebling, in fact they feel warmer now. Iwaizumi whispered words, soothing, calming—loving, if Oikawa dares to get his hopes up, as they held each other after a battle that felt like forever. Despite everything that has happened, despite their current circumstance, within Iwaizumi’s embrace, Oikawa felt safe.

 

**100 minutes later**

“Stay still,” Iwaizumi insists. Oikawa obliges. Not because he wants to, but because he has no other choice. He can’t feel anything below his chest. Before he frantically searches for answers, Iwaizumi reaches for a bottle of oxybuprocaine from the cart beside them. If Oikawa’s memories serves him correctly, the liquid is a form of topical anaesthesia commonly used by dentists.

“Almost there,” Iwaizumi’s voice sounds muffled. Oikawa looks up and finds Iwaizumi’s face covered by a surgical mask.

The feeling is unfamiliar to Oikawa. He can see Iwaizumi working on his wounds. He can see the blue gloves protecting Iwaizumi’s hands now stained red from both Oikawa’s blood and povidone-iodine used as antiseptic. He can see the needle puncturing along the opening in his abdomen, the thread going through and binding his torn skin together—but the familiar stinging pain that accompanies the procedure is absent.

Oh, must have been the local anaesthetics Iwaizumi generously poured earlier.

“Don’t move,” Iwaizumi says when Oikawa tried to lift his head for better look. Iwaizumi didn’t spare Oikawa a glance. His voice is stern as he continues his work redoing the stitches. “I’ve thoroughly cleaned your wound, but without proper equipment I cannot examine for leftover shrapnel. Seeing that you’re bleeding to this extent, either a major artery is damaged or the tip of the blade broke and is still inside.”

Most of the time, Oikawa is forced to tend his own wounds with immense pain. Other times, he would wake up in headquarters’ infirmary after a mission; wounds perfectly patched up as the doctors tend him while he was unconscious. This is the first time Oikawa sees an actual medical professional do the procedure. Iwaizumi’s hands work fast, like how Oikawa would do. But unlike Oikawa, Iwaizumi’s stitches are precise and incredibly neat—beautiful even, if that’s an acceptable word to describe wounds as gruesome as his.

“At least there’s one thing I know I’m doing right,” Iwaizumi murmurs as he ties the final stitch.

While Iwaizumi relied on his instincts when preventing Oikawa’s heart and lungs from failing, scalpels and stitches are where his expertise lies. Autopsy is like surgery for the dead. They follow the same procedure and use the same approach. In a hospital as big as his, they cut open and close dead bodies numerous times per week. Matsukawa hates closing the bodies after autopsies so he leaves Iwaizumi with the dirty work. After two years Iwaizumi’s hands developed a mind of its own.

“Alright”, Iwaizumi says just loud enough for him to hear. He wipes his forehead with the sleeve of his white coat, carefully not to get blood on his face.

Oikawa uses his elbows to get himself up, only to be held back down by Iwaizumi.

“I thought I made myself clear. Don’t move,” Iwaizumi says sternly. “You lost way too much blood.”

Right. Just a second later Oikawa felt his head spinning. He doesn’t feel pain thanks to sedatives but the effects of massive blood loss still linger. In fact, it is still a threat to his life if not immediately treated.

“You have to lie down, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi says, a lot softer this time.

Iwaizumi’s unusual stern behaviour was enough for Oikawa to comply, but he just had to voice a bitter ‘please’ with a pained look in his eyes.

“I need to get more blood packs. It won’t be enough to replenish the amount you lost, but it’s better than none.”

That and massive transfusion must be done by a professional. Iwaizumi lacks both training and assistance to do so.

“Do you need anything?” Iwaizumi asks as he throws the used gloves in a special bin and the rest of his equipment in a metal tray.

Oikawa doesn’t answer—or couldn’t. His throat feels painfully dry.

“I’ll get you some water. We only have energy drinks in the mini fridge,” Iwaizumi says as if he could read Oikawa’s mind.

“Ah,” Iwaizumi mutters in sudden realization. He takes off his white coat and carefully wraps it around Oikawa like a blanket. “I’m sorry I can’t set the thermostat any higher. The morgue needs to have dry air and low temperature setting. After losing that much blood, you must be a lot more sensitive to cold.”

Iwaizumi even takes his scarf and thoughtfully arranges it to support Oikawa’s head against the cold metal autopsy table. He pulls his white coat up to Oikawa’s chest, like tucking him in. Iwaizumi’s palm then carefully touches Oikawa’s forehead and the base of his neck as he checks for fever and other signs of infection. Then he runs the tip of his fingers down the line of Oikawa’s face and that is when Oikawa notices the different look on Iwaizumi’s eyes. His gaze visibly changes between professional accuracy to emotional affection and it stirs Oikawa in many ways.

 

*

 

When Iwaizumi came back from a small errand with blood packs and medical supplies in hand, Oikawa is holding a small tracking device in between his fingers while his face is facing away from the morgue entrance. Honestly Iwaizumi didn’t know what to expect. Knowing Oikawa’s background, he might as well disappeared as sudden as he appears. Iwaizumi is somewhat relieved seeing Oikawa still there. Part of him wants Oikawa to rest but another part knows the longer he stays the greater the risks of being caught.

“W-what are you doing?” Oikawa gasped as Iwaizumi slips an arm under his neck and supports him up.

“Drink this. Careful,” Iwaizumi says. His other hand is holding a glass of water. Oikawa takes a sip. The wound on his abdomen has been dominating his mind that he forgot how painfully dry his throat is.

After a while Iwaizumi helps Oikawa back down. A grunt escapes Oikawa’s lips as the painkillers start to lose effects. Although Iwaizumi offered more, Oikawa refuses. Then Iwaizumi moves to reinstall the blood transfusion. There is only so much he can do to fight off Oikawa’s blood loss since transfusion is not as simple as it looks. Given the wrong circumstances Iwaizumi might end up intoxicating Oikawa instead of healing him.

“You’re not going to ask what happened?”

Iwaizumi looks down to meet Oikawa’s eyes.

“I would. But then you’ll have to speak and what you need now is proper rest,” Iwaizumi says as he continues his work. “I could. But it’s a bit redundant since I already have a basic idea of what you went through.”

Oikawa unconsciously runs his hands along his fresh wound.

“Multiple stabbing. I’d say the weapon of assault is sharp edged since there are no bruises around your wound. Bad news is, sharp objects tend to break upon penetration. Furthermore, you’re bleeding excessively, it’s very concerning because it is a sign of leftover shrapnel,” Iwaizumi says. “In most cases, stopping haemorrhage and cleaning the wound are equally important to treat stab wounds. I assume you tried to stop the bleeding even though your wound was close to infection. Having a general idea of your job, I can see why you choose to do so.”

Iwaizumi sits down again and pushes strands of Oikawa’s hair off his eyes.

“If I were hunted down, I’d do the same thing. However, such methods only buy you some time. 30 minutes at maximum but what the hell do I know? Perhaps that’s enough for you to return to headquarters,” Iwaizumi continues. He pats the side of Oikawa’s head while resting his own on the autopsy table. “For some reason it failed. Otherwise I would come in to a thrashed morgue instead of finding you barely conscious and excessively bleeding. Which leaves us with two possible reasons. Either you suffer from a rare medical disease or the weapon of assault is yet another innovative super-secret blade that commoners like me have no idea they exist.”

“Impressive,” Oikawa compliments.

“Well, I didn’t get this job because of my good looks.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised if you did,” Oikawa laughs softly.

Iwaizumi didn’t respond, instead he lowers his face to hide the invading shade of red.

“Iwa-chan, you should rest.”

Iwaizumi pats the crown of Oikawa’s head, “Nah. I’d rather look at your face before you disappear again.”

“You read minds now?” Oikawa asks, half joking. Even though he has called for backup, Oikawa has made up his mind to leave if no one came in an hour. He doesn’t want to risk the enemy finding him around the hospital’s premises. And somehow, Iwaizumi points it out like he knows what’s in Oikawa’s mind.

Iwaizumi shakes his head. “Our relationship -or whatever this _thing_ we have between us- would be so much easier if I could.”

Oikawa chuckles a response. He moves aside closer to Iwaizumi and lets the other play with his hair more. Iwaizumi reaches for Oikawa’s hand, the one without an IV catheter, and lets their fingers intertwine. Iwaizumi’s other arm goes under Oikawa’s neck, acting like a pillow thus wrapping him in his arms. After a while Oikawa slowly leans to Iwaizumi’s side. Only then they both notice how they physically fit each other perfectly, like puzzle pieces. Oikawa rests his tired body and Iwaizumi is more than willing to carry the weight. Oh how Iwaizumi craves this side of Oikawa.

“I-Iwa—Hajime,” Oikawa’s throat still hurts.

“Hm?” Iwaizumi hums in response. He knows it must be hard for Oikawa to speak. He gave Oikawa all the time he needs and gently caress the back of Oikawa’s hand with his thumb.

“I think,” Oikawa pauses. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Iwaizumi’s hands stopped for a moment or two. His pupils widen and seconds later he continues caressing Oikawa’s hand.

“Are you thinking out loud,” Before continuing Iwaizumi pecks the back of Oikawa’s hand and looks into his eyes, “Or reading my mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A sneak peak for the next and final update—!
>
>> “Put him down or I’ll shoot.”
>> 
>> Kageyama has his eyes and aim locked to the unidentified man carrying Oikawa in his arms. For some reason his face seems familiar, like Kageyama’s seen him before; but when, where and most importantly, why? It’ll be fine if he’s seen the man somewhere on the street, but if Kageyama unconsciously remembered his face from a case report, then they have a problem—aside from Oikawa succumbing to his injuries.
>> 
>> “Listen to me,” the man’s voice slightly trebled. “I work in this hospital—”
>> 
>> Yes, the white coat and badge hanging around his neck supports that statement. But with intel saying that the enemy is after Oikawa, Kageyama has valid reasons to highly doubt anyone wanting to take Oikawa anywhere.
>> 
>> _It could be the enemy disguising as a doctor._
>> 
>> “—I found him in the morgue and I tried to help him but it wasn’t enough.”
>> 
>> Just one glance is enough to confirm the man’s claims. Kageyama has never seen Oikawa as helpless as he is now. He’s barely alive, as if his life force is dripping out of the wound on his side. The man’s hold on Oikawa wobbled then and now; of course, carrying a person bridal style strains the arms most. Although seeing the state and location of Oikawa’s open wound, without a gurney, there is no other way to carry him. Oikawa’s face is pressed to the side of the man’s chest but it does little to nothing to hide his painful writhing with every move the man made. The way Oikawa clenches onto the man’s white coat gave Kageyama the impression that Oikawa trusts whoever is holding him.
>> 
>> _He’s injured and in excruciating pain, of course Oikawa would hold on to anyone in that state._
>> 
>> “Now I don’t care if you’re the enemy or Koanchosa—”
>> 
>> The mention of his agency ticked Kageyama the wrong way.
>> 
>> _That’s suspicious._
>> 
>> “—but if you want Oikawa to have a chance at surviving this you have to let me bring him upstairs.”
>> 
>> He knows Oikawa’s name.
>> 
>> _That’s_ very _suspicious_.
>> 
>> “For the last time,” Kageyama voiced his final warning. “Put him down or I’ll shoot.”


End file.
